Loading...You are on the phone and I cannot resist. I am drawn to the sound of your voice, just like Peaches-the-cat, and just as predisposed to purr as she is. You are sitting in your chair, staring sightlessly at the computer monitor as you talk.
‘Ah, good,’ I think, ‘its not work-related.’ I long to touch you and I do so, running my fingers over your bare shoulders and down your chest.
In response, your fingers clasp my wrist, and squeezing firmly, lift my hand away. Your other hand gestures impatiently, signalling ‘leave me alone’. I am miffed by your response, I admit it. I pull my hands away and move around the chair to straddle your legs, trapping them between my own. You give me an intense almost-glare and continue your conversation, your eyes flashing warnings at me. Which I ignore, of course.
I sit on the edge of your desk and prop up one of my legs by placing my foot on the arm of your chair. You shoot me an angry look but your eyes are caught by the sight of me slowly easing the skirt of my sundress up my thigh. I run my fingers along my smooth-shaven legs, up over my knee and then down along the underside of my thigh. My fingers brush the crotch of my panties and I shiver and moan. My nipples are suddenly hard and long, and I can feel a surge of moisture both inside me and around my clit.
You lean back in your chair a bit, easing your hips forward, drawing my eyes to the bulge growing there. Good. I am tempted to drop to my knees and pull you out, but you’ve pushed me away once and I don’t want it to happen again, so I rest my right hand behind me and lean back against it, supporting myself. I run a finger along my panties, massaging my clit through the cloth barrier, trying to push my finger inside me. Very soon, my panties are soaked. I bring my hand up to my pubis and slide my fingers under the cloth, teasing the soft, shaved skin of my mound and labia.
I watch as you swallow hard and close your eyes, then open them again, as if you are afraid to miss something. I press a finger through my labia and give my clit a good flick, which in turn makes me gasp. I cannot help it, I am trying to be quiet, but it feels so good, that electrical shock of pleasure. I slip my hand farther down, running my fingers between my lips, revelling in the wetness. I slip a finger into my hole, just an inch or two, and slip it out, repeating until my hips want to lift off the desk.
I can hear your voice: you are still talking, but your eyes are fastened upon me, upon that cloth-covered part of my body where all the action is taking place. I decide to have pity on you, and I stand up from the edge of the desk and pull my dress over my head. I pitch it over your shoulder to land in a heap a few feet away. I turn around and balance against the desk, stepping out of my panties. They are soaking wet, and as they slide down my thighs they leave a trail of wetness. I step out of them and leave them laying at my feet, thinking about what to do next.
Bending over, I rest my elbow on the desktop and my chin in my hand. I spread my legs wide apart, and making sure you have a good view, I begin to touch myself in earnest. The fingers of my left hand torment my clit, pinching and rolling it and until my hips buck, and then slip down into me, hooking against my bone, making me squirm. Perhaps three minutes pass and I know I am close to coming, and I know, too, that I cannot come quietly, so I back off.
I can still hear your voice droning but I cannot make out the words, as my own pleasure is buzzing too loudly in my ears. I move my fingers out of my pussy and run them along my ass, giving myself gooseflesh. My fingers are so slick with my juices that I have no trouble moistening the opening there. With my middle finger I tease myself a bit, then slowly push past the ring of muscle to my second knuckle. Carefully, carefully, I slip my finger back and forth, enjoying the frisson of pleasure that this friction provides me. When I have relaxed enough, I try for a second finger, and in less than a minute, both are inside me, moving slowly.
Your tone changes, and I can tell that you are ending your conversation. I can hear you moving in your chair, but I am too wrapped up in the pleasure that I am giving myself to notice more than that.
Suddenly I feel your hand around my wrist, dragging my fingers out of my ass as you push my wrist upwards, into the small of my back. With your other hand you push me down onto the desk until my breasts are pressed against it, then, guide yourself into my pussy. You shove into me hard, forcing a cry out of me that is echoed by a long, low moan from you. My hipbones are slammed punishingly into the desktop again and again until pleasure starts over-riding pain and my body lengthens. I stand on tiptoe and reach my free hand under me to touch my clit. I grind it pushingly, pushing myself toward orgasm with each pass of my fingers. You continue to pound into me until I come, crying out my pleasure, my back arched and my face red.
You pull out of me so suddenly that I moan in protest. There is a small shift in your stance and then I can feel you pressing against a different hole. Your cock is slick and you push the head through with a sharp shove that brings a gasp from me. I am still quivering from my climax, sensitized as hell, and the pressure of you inside me is intense.
“Slowly,” I gasp.
“I was on the phone,” you say gruffly in response, and leaning forward, press another half-inch into me.
“Oh please,” I beg, tears starting in my eyes, my fingers beginning to work in earnest on my clit again, trying to over-ride the pain-signals with pleasure ones. “Please, go slow.”
You back out a bit and push again, forcing your way in another inch or so. We both moan, and I can feel the hand still holding my wrist in place tremble a little. I relax and push back a bit, and that is all the invitation you need to continue working your cock into me. Finally you are all the way inside me. I can feel your balls pressing against my fingers as I massage my clit. I’m breathing hard and fast, and I am whimpering and moaning, but so are you.
I buck my ass against you a couple of times and you take the hint. You groan deep down in your chest and start to slide in and out of me, picking up speed after a few strokes. Withdrawing almost all the way, you thrust deeply into me, not as roughly as you did when you were in my pussy, but with restrained violence nonetheless. It feels amazingly intense, and soon I feel that peculiar tingle unique to the build-up of an anal orgasm.
“I’m going to come soon,” I warn you, and pinching my clit, begin clenching my muscles around you, milking your cock. I want you to come soon, I need you to come soon. A hard and fast orgasm rises above me like a wave, its curve promising a simultaneous anal and clitoral climax. I can hear myself whimpering and gasping and begging you to come, and I can hear you moaning and gasping in response. A few short, hard strokes and I can feel you tensing behind me, feel that impossible swelling and stiffness that signals orgasm, and then you are coming.
The sounds that come from you are all I need to push me over, and my muscles clench around you as the pleasure radiates through me, making me cry out, wringing me out, forcing gasps and moans from you as well as a blindingly intense double orgasm rolls through me.
Afterwards, you pull slowly and carefully out of me and help me to stand upright on shaky legs. We walk upstairs to your bed and collapse there, arms and legs entangled, and sleep.